


come with me friday don't say maybe

by orphan_account



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Black Catra, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Height Differences, Jock Adora, Mutual Pining, catra is a theater nerd, lesbians all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “That--that was Adora, the quarterback of the team?! Y’know, the Adora who’s valedictorian this year? Rumored to kiss babies and feed the homeless in her free time?”Over the deafening roar of the crowd, Catra hears her pulse speed up, flapping like delicate butterfly wings.“Adora, huh?”





	come with me friday don't say maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herinterface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herinterface/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Ven conmigo el viernes, no digas tal vez.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987312) by [LightDark01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightDark01/pseuds/LightDark01)



> i've got two tickets to iron maiden babey
> 
> for sam, who also beta read  
> thanks grace for beta reading as well! <3
> 
> update 5/2/19: [read in spanish!!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987312)

They meet at the first football game Catra’s ever been to. It’s only per Scorpia’s begging and pleading, because of course it is. Maybe Catra should’ve thanked her after.

Catra would later go on to fruitlessly deny she did not, in fact, get hit in the face with a football. It’s a lie, though. She’s really not that cool.

What  _ isn’t  _ a lie, however, is the beautiful, long legged, sunkissed football player that runs up to  _ her  _ ( _ Catra! _ ) with unwavering worry in her big baby blue eyes, an apologetic shout on her full, pink lips. 

“Are you okay?! I’m so sorry!” Oh, and her  _ voice.  _ It sounds like all of Catra’s favourite songs playing at the same time. It sounds like an angel humming a soft hymn at the pearly gates, where she’s finally descended to. It--

Wow, okay, Catra’s face  _ really  _ hurts. It’s kind of throbbing, actually. 

“Uh,” she begins, stupidly, “It--It’s okay, no harm done.” 

“Are you sure?” 

All the while this ethereal girl is doting on poor old Catra, her coach, a really tall lady with light pink hair,  _ wow _ , is calling for her to get back on the field. Angrily. The people in the stands around them seem to screech in agreement.

“I-I’m sure, yeah.”

The girl finally nods, running begrudgingly back to the bench her coach is hollering from, long, golden blonde ponytail bobbing with the motion. Catra’s mouth feels dry.

Eventually, she turns to Scorpia, who gives her a wide-eyed stare. “Who was that?” 

“That-- _ that  _ was Adora, the quarterback of the team?! Y’know, the Adora who’s valedictorian this year? Rumored to kiss babies and feed the homeless in her free time?”

Over the deafening roar of the crowd, Catra hears her pulse speed up, flapping like delicate butterfly wings.

“Adora, huh?”

  
  
  


Predictably, their team wins the game. Adora earns them their final field goal, effectively smashing the rivaling school. Catra watches people carry Adora off on their shoulders, blue gatorade dripping down her throat and onto her neck. It’s pretty hot.

On Monday, Catra walks to the courtyard for lunch with a spring in her step, big, brown curls secured by a light red headband. 

“Who are you trying to impress,” Lonnie says the moment Catra plops down on the grass across from her.  _ Was she really that obvious? _

“No one. Mind your own business, Lonnie.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I could just go over to the lunchroom and tell  _ Adora  _ you’ve got a big fat crush on her  _ right now _ .”

“Scorpia!” Catra hisses, turning to the aforementioned with a glare in her brown eyes.  _ How could she?! _ Aren’t they supposed to be best friends?

Scorpia, conveniently, has the gall to be just a  _ little  _ bit apologetic, scratching her neck sheepishly. “Come on, Kitty--you know I can’t keep a secret!” 

She does know that, thank you very much.

“I guess.” 

Catra bites into the lettuce in her sandwich with extra ferocity. 

“Looks like I didn’t even have to get up,” Lonnie says, suddenly, a satisfied smirk on her face as she looks beyond where Catra’s sitting.  _ Oh no.  _ “Your girl’s heading this way, Catra.” 

Indeed she is. Adora hobbles along the pathway with two people on either side of her, talking animatedly. Glimmer and Bow, as Catra learned from Scorpia, are two of Adora’s favourite people in the whole wide world--well, maybe besides her hamster, Swift Wind. The two of them are on the football team, too.

Truthfully, Catra feels a little bit like a creep. In the car after the game, the brunette grilled Scorpia about Adora within an inch of her life. Is it  _ kind  _ of weird she now knows what perfume Adora wears? Maybe. 

Adora chooses that moment to run slender fingers through her hair, effectively carrying out the killing shot in Catra’s murder. She muffles a squeak. 

Adora hears it. 

The girl directs her gaze to Catra, sun shining across her face in a way that makes her look angelic, breathtaking eyes shining with the warmth of mirth.

“Hey!” she calls, closing the distance between her and Catra. “How are you? Did I, like, give you a concussion?” 

_ You may as well have _ , Catra thinks. Good thing she has a filter. 

“N-Nothing like that. Just a bruise.” 

Adora steps in even  _ closer.  _ Catra catches a whiff of her hair, all white floral and jasmine that has Catra feeling weak in the knees. The quarterback tucks a curl behind Catra’s ear, wincing as she takes in the remnants of the purple-blue dotting her cheek. Thank God for concealer. 

“Looks better than yesterday...what’s your name, by the way?” 

“I’m--I’m Catra.” 

“Catra? That’s cute! I’m Adora.” 

_ Cute?  _ Catra  _ is cute? Fluffy  _ dogs  _ are cute. Catra is a dumb name. _

Scorpia loves making her presence known. This is especially true around new people--a feat Catra definitely encountered upon their first meeting. “I’m Scorpia!” she says. She flexes her muscles for extra effect. 

“You’re on the wrestling team, right? Do you know Perfuma?” The boy,  _ Bow _ , asks. Catra knows him as both a fellow actor and the GSA President _.  _ Also, his dads run the drama department, so _.  _

“ _ Do I _ ? We’ve lived on the same street for years!”

Catra finds herself zoning out, staring dumbly at the sandwich crumbs in her tupperware container. She bites at her thumb. 

“I like your headband, by the way. Where’d you get it?” Adora asks in that sweet voice of hers, barely above a whisper. 

“It’s my foster sister’s, I think,” Catra mumbles. 

“Is she as cute as you are?” 

Catra feels herself flush an unflattering pink, cheeks hot enough to cook an egg. She swallows her spit, hiding behind her hair pathetically. 

“She’s eleven.” 

“Ah,” Adora hums, “I bet you’re good with kids, then.” 

_ Well _ .  _ No _ .

Catra giggles awkwardly. She sounds like an idiot. A lovesick, pining, lesbian idiot. 

Glimmer bumps her shoulder with Adora’s, successfully ending the miserable dredges of conversation between she and Catra. “We gotta go, ‘Dora. Bell’s about to ring.” 

Adora nods, though there’s something in her eyes that Catra can’t necessarily discern. She looks... _ disappointed _ , maybe?

“I’ll catch you later, Catra?” She looks hopeful. Despite her doubts, there’s absolutely  _ no way  _ Catra’s about to let her down. 

“Catch you later.”

  
  
  


After that, Catra sees Adora practically  _ everywhere _ . At the grocery store with her foster siblings, between classes--hell, even at after school play practice.

On one such occasion, in which Catra is warming up for a scene, she catches Adora and Glimmer in the audience, towards the back. Glimmer is eating sour patch kids, talking idly to Adora as she scrolls through her phone. Adora, however, is watching.  _ Catra _ .  _ Not Bow _ .  _ Catra _ .

When she notices Catra, she waves at her, a smile taking up her face. She looks so pretty, illuminated in the soft glow of the light.

“Catra!” Her drama teacher, Mr. A, a larger man slightly taller than Catra, shouts, though his tone is devoid of any malice. Nevertheless, Catra jumps, muttering a harsh apology the man waves off goodnaturedly. 

“From the top, Bow.” 

The boy nods and clears his throat. This year, Bow’s fathers made the mutual decision to put on the production  _ Hamlet _ , which--well, let’s just say Catra got bagged with Ophelia. At least  _ Bow  _ is Hamlet. 

“Lady, shall I lie in your lap?” Bow begins, laying at Catra’s feet.

“No, my lord,” Catra says. 

“I mean, my head upon your lap?” Bow shuffles impossibly closer to the girl, flashing her longing eyes. 

“Ay, my lord.” 

“Do you think I meant country matters?”

As though she can’t help herself, Catra’s gaze wanders off to the audience, eyes catching on Adora’s form like a magnet. The latter gives her a thumbs up, winking. Catra can feel herself turn red. 

“I-I think nothing, my lord,” she finally says, voice slightly winded. She knows Mr. A can  _ probably  _ tell she’s not being very professional, though he lets her slide for some blessed reason. 

The girl risks another look back into the audience, meeting Adora’s gaze once more. This time, she twirls a lock of hair with her finger, that gorgeous grin on her face that makes Catra’s insides melt.

“That’s a fair thought...to lie between maids’ legs,” Bow hums. He doesn’t seem bothered by Catra’s unprofessionalism--at least, he doesn’t show it. 

“You are merr--uh, what is it, m-my lord?” _ Focus, Catra, focus!  _ Truthfully, she’s too hyper aware of Adora’s presence in the audience to attempt to run through  _ any  _ scenes.

“That’s it for today,” Mr. A sighs, scratching at his scraggly beard in presumed annoyance. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. And Catra? Try to figure out what was... _ distracting you  _ today, okay sweetheart?” 

Catra buries her head in her hands pitifully. 

  
  
  


When Catra walks into English, there is someone sitting on her desk. Someone vaguely Adora shaped.

When the girl gets to her seat, Adora greets her with a  _ tight  _ hug, yelling about how “ _ we’ve been in the same class for so long, but I just noticed?! _ ” Way to make a girl feel special, Adora.

If you were to ask Catra, she would  _ not  _ tell you she already knew this fact. Nor would she tell you that her grades in this class were so bad because she spent all her time staring and daydreaming about Adora.

“Adora...maybe you should go back to your seat,” Catra says.  _ Please don’t go yet,  _ she thinks.

“Already?” she whines.  _ Whines _ . “But I wanted to ask you something.” 

Catra bites her lip. It’s a curse, being unable to resist pretty girls.

“Ask me what?”

Adora holds out a hand, tan skin a sweet contrast to Catra’s dark brown. The aforementioned takes it, courage planting itself into her chest and sprouting through her throat as she smirks at Adora. Catra can be playful. She can charm Adora. She can tease her and make her  _ swoon _ .

“Do you have a girlfriend?” 

_ Oh. Well. Catra was certainly not expecting that. _

She blushes as red as a lobster. “No!” The girl has the gall to be just a  _ bit  _ defensive. 

“You’re not dating Scorpia?”

“No,” Catra shakes her head, “nothing like that.”

Adora’s eyes sparkle, and she tosses a mass of hair behind her shoulder. It’s not up in her usual ponytail today--instead, it cascades down her back in silk, flaxen waves. 

“Good to hear,” she hums. “See you after class!”

  
  
  


Catra, in all her years, has never catered to even the  _ idea  _ of rumors. Gossip and drama are not her thing in the slightest. 

That being said, there is something going on that she’s keenly aware of--and not in the way she wants to be. She hears it as she walks down the halls to her locker and at lunch in the courtyard. 

_ Adora is dating Catra. _

This is News to her.

“Finally,” Kyle says, “we’ve been waiting for the two of you to get together for, like,  _ weeks _ .”

“Who?” Lonnie asks.  _ Yeah, who? _

“Catra, obviously.”

Lonnie emits a chuckle that’s all too snarky, a devilish grin on her lips when she makes eye contact with Catra. “Congratulations!” There’s an underlying malice in her tone that Catra can feel her insides shrivel at. For all that Lonnie is funny and strong, she has a distaste for Catra that even the aliens in outer space can sense.

Scorpia swallows a grape, giving Catra a Look. A pouty Look. “Aw,” she whines, “how come you didn’t tell me, Kitty? You’re my Super Pal!” 

Catra wants to refute with the fact that Scorpia  _ did  _ tell almost their entire friend group she had a big fat crush on Adora, the quarterback of their school’s football team, completely out of her league and prettier than an angel. She holds her tongue, though.

“We’re not dating,” Catra mutters, playing with the shoelace of her converse  _ gloomily.  _ “Stop saying that. Adora probably hates it.”

Kyle offers Catra a sympathetic look as he leans into Rogelio’s touch. Catra wants to scratch it off his face.

  
  
  


“Do you have any pets?” Adora asks, biting down gently on the sparkly purple gel pen within her grasp. They’re working on an assignment in English, for which Adora  _ begged  _ Catra to partner up with her. Probably because her friends in this class already paired off.

Catra smiles fondly. “I have a cat,” she says. “His name is Cedar. He’s a Serengeti.” 

Adora hums in acknowledgement, leaning just a bit closer to observe Catra’s face. Almost like she’s a puzzle Adora can’t solve, even though she truly wants to. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”  _ Good job, Catra. _

“A Serengeti?” Adora smiles. 

“Oh! They’re spotted cats, kind of like Bengals.” Catra can feel herself slowly starting to nerd out on Adora, which isn’t exactly ideal. If she’s going to impress her crush, she doesn’t want it to be because she knows a freakish amount about cats. What kind of conversation topic is cats, anyway?

“I bet he’s super cute! Do you have a picture of him?”

Catra nods, pulling her phone out the back pocket of her jeans and switching it on. Adora watches her, seemingly intrigued, a wall of hair falling into her face as she rests her head on Catra’s shoulder. The aforementioned tries not to fall over and die.

Finally, she brandishes an image of Cedar, wrapped in blankets and asleep on her bed. It’s an older picture--he’s still a bit skinny in the shoulders, and has that kittenish mischief Catra recalls none too fondly. She feels her heart swell with love for the animal, a silly grin splitting her face. 

Adora gasps, eyes widening. “I was right! I love him,” she says. “I like cats, but Glimmer’s mom is allergic to them.” The blonde pouts _. _

Catra decides then that she wants to do everything in her power to keep that cute little pout off Adora’s face, purely because it’s just too adorable she’s afraid she’s going to die of a heart attack if she sees even the dredges of it again. 

“Maybe you can meet Cedar one day,” she finds herself saying. Bites her tongue. 

Adora nods fervently. “Yes! Absolutely yes! It’s a date.” 

_ It’s a date. _

  
  
  


“There’s a game this Friday,” Bow says, completely unprompted. They’re taking five while Mr. A fusses with the costume designers over a rip in Hamlet’s outfit. “Are you going?” 

“Probably not,” she shrugs. “Football isn’t really my thing--especially after I got pummeled with one.”

“Yeah, but  _ Adora’s  _ your thing. She’ll be so bummed out if you miss it.” 

Catra rolls her eyes. He’s probably just being dramatic. 

However, the idea of Adora not performing so well because her friend didn’t come to support her rubs the brunette the wrong way. “What time’s the game?” she sighs.

Bow lights up, an excited squeal on his lips.

  
  
  


Scorpia is keeping something from Catra. Something Big. 

The aforestated wrings her hands together, eyes darting around the room nervously. Looking everywhere but  _ directly at Catra _ .

“Scorpia.”

The wrestler jumps out of her own skin. She finally looks at Catra, though her eyes focus on her freckles and  _ not  _ her face. “W-What is it, Kitty?”

“What are you doing.” 

Scorpia scratches her chin. Gulps. “What do you mean?”

“ _ Scorpia _ .” 

“Okay, okay! I have something to tell you…” 

Catra sighs. “What.” 

“I,” Scorpia begins, swallowing audibly, “am...g-going out with someone?”

The brunette gasps, gripping Scorpia by her large shoulders the best she can and shaking her. “What?! That’s so great! Who is it?” 

“Entrapta.” 

Catra shakes Scorpia even  _ harder _ , a grin on her lips. “I love Entrapta! Why are you so nervous about this?” 

Scorpia huffs, running fingers through her hair. “I don’t know...didn’t Entrapta, like, set your computer on fire in freshman year?” 

“I’m willing to look past that.” 

Scorpia  _ finally  _ smiles, shoving Catra’s shoulder playfully. “I guess I just thought you would be mad if I didn’t spend as much time with you as I usually do.” 

_ Scorpia...you’re so silly.  _

Catra chuckles, curls bouncing as she shakes her head. “Of course not, ‘Scorp. I’m happy for you!”

“I really like her,” the girl whimpers helplessly. “She’s cute and funny and  _ so  _ smart. She’s out of my league, Kitty!” 

“She is not! You’re both insanely gorgeous and intelligent. You’re a perfect match,” Catra smiles. 

Scorpia wraps her freakishly muscular arms around her friend, effectively squeezing the life out of Catra. She can feel herself turning blue. “I love you, ‘Scorp, but I’m also a whole foot shorter than you and have noodle arms,” she gasps.

“Sorry, sorry!”

  
  
  


Friday’s game steadily approaches, and Catra keeps herself busy as best she can. She runs over scenes with Bow, texts Adora ( _ yes! _ ), and sits with her friends, including Entrapta, now, at lunch. 

When school lets out, Bow forces Catra into his car for the  _ “simplistic reason” _ that he make Catra look her best.  _ For Adora _ .

“Do you like skirts?” 

“Perhaps.” 

“Try this on.” Bow tosses her a varsity plaid skirt. It’s cute--like,  _ really  _ cute. She secretly hopes Adora likes it.

“It fits,” she says.

Bow hums his approval, circling the girl as if to smize her up. He hands her a headband. “Don’t tell her I told you this, but Adora would  _ not  _ stop talking about how good you looked on Monday.”

Catra’s insides are gooey. 

“ _ Really? _ She was probably just being nice.”

Bow rolls his eyes so hard she’s afraid they’re going to fall out of his head.

  
  
  


Predictably, the football stands are packed. Bow wanders off to get ready for the game, leaving Catra scrounging to find Scorpia and Entrapta. 

When she does, Entrapta waves at her enthusiastically. “Hello, Catra!”

“Hi,” Catra smiles, breathless, plopping herself down on the bleachers next to Scorpia, “how are you?”

“Just marvelous!”

A hush falls over the crowd as the band starts playing. Catra keeps an eye out for Adora, though she’s not exactly hard to miss, being the quarterback and all. 

_ Finally _ , Catra spots her. She’s sitting on the bench next to one of her teammates, sipping from a water bottle. Catra calls out her name, offering her an excited wave. “Go Adora!” 

Adora  _ blushes _ . Blushes so hard even  _ Catra,  _ from all the way up  _ here  _ can see. She’s attempting to speak, mouth opening and closing like a guppy. She eventually gives up, coughing and slapping her cheeks. “Thanks!” she calls.

  
  
  


The match is  _ tight,  _ though, in the end, the other school comes out victorious. Catra can see the disappointment in Adora’s face, the gloomy slump of her shoulders as she pats her players on the back. Catra feels her heart ache for her.

When Adora disappears into the locker room, Catra departs from her friends with a rushed goodbye, hurrying down the steps. She barely makes it past an angry white lady with a tray of nachos in her hand.

**catra >:3** : adora?? where are u?

**dora dora dora** : in the locker room. meet me by my car please.

Catra finds Adora’s car, a beat up old pickup truck that’s  _ surprisingly  _ endearing, perching herself under the tailgate to wait.

The blonde makes it out after a few minutes, sweaty and clearly exhausted. She has her helmet clutched in her left hand, the right one messing with her damp ponytail.

“Catra,” she pants, throwing herself down next to the latter with a burnt out huff, “I’m so sorry.” 

Catra frowns, eyebrows knitting together inquisitively. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because!” Adora wails, kicking her helmet miserably, “I wanted to impress you so bad! I wanted to get the field goal and make you run into my arms and spin you around and kiss you in front of the whole school!”

_ Oh.  _ Catra whimpers.

“Sorry, sorry, that’s so weird. You probably  _ hate  _ me now.”

“Adora,” Catra begins, shuffling until she’s standing in front of the girl. “I don’t hate you. I could  _ never  _ hate you.” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” she smiles. “I’ve been practically in love with you since you threw a ball at my face. I don’t like you because you’re athletic and good at football, I  _ like  _ you because you’re charming and sweet and just my type.”

Adora sniffs, rising to her feet. She levels Catra with a watery look, nose slightly runny. She’s  _ so  _ cute. “You’re the cutest girl I’ve ever seen,” she whines, “with your curls and your freckles and your headband and your  _ skirt!  _ God!”

Before Catra can protest, Adora is leaning down, hands cupping Catra’s waist. Catra meets her on her tippy toes. She plays with the hem of her skirt, resting their foreheads together. Catra wants to taste her lips  _ so  _ bad--can smell the remnants of her perfume and the mint from her toothpaste. Adora tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, pressing a soft, fluttery kiss to the skin under it. Catra squeaks.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” she whispers. 

“No.” 

Adora grins _ , finally  _ slotting their lips together. The girl takes the lead, moving their mouths together slowly. The wet kissing noises make Catra blush even harder than she already  _ is _ , which is saying something. Adora glides her tongue along Catra’s bottom lip, tasting her for herself. Catra sighs into her mouth, fiddling absentmindedly with the sweaty flyaways at the nape of her neck.

They finally pull apart, panting softly. It’s almost like Adora can’t tear her eyes away from Catra’s for more than a second, hot breath fanning along her cheeks. 

“Catra,” Adora says, breathless, “be my girlfriend?” 

Catra pulls her in for another kiss.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> iloveukmg on tumbr!!  
> feedback is encouraged and appreciated


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